Hermione's Hectic Hour
by Caspre
Summary: Ever wondered what Hermione got up to with that Timeturner other than get to lessons? As she attempts to correct the chaos that we never found out about, things seem to get even MORE out of hand. You never know,she might just surprise you...
1. How it started

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* * *

-Hermione's Hectic Hour-**

**By Caspre

* * *

**

It's pretty. Gold, spindly, delicate. Even as I hold it still is twists and turns, shimmering slightly, timeless.

A staggering feeling of power washes over me. It takes a surprising amount of effort to control my breathing and steady my fingers as I hold this little thing in my hands.

"Now I'm placing a large amount of trust upon you, Miss Granger." Professor McGonagall says, looking almost concerned as she hands me the instruction leaflet. Perhaps she had seen the maddening gleam that had clouded my vision for just a second. I should really keep myself under control.

But this…this _feeling_.

Of opportunity…

For more knowledge than perhaps any Student who has been to Hogwarts has thirsted for before…

I draw in a shaky breath and nod solemnly.

"Yes, Professor." I whisper reverently.

"You are to use this Timeturner in the interest of attending all of your lessons_ only_ and for extra time on homework. You may _not _abuse this privilege that you have been granted with on the grounds of your exceptional schoolwork and behavior in the past."

"Yes, Professor." I can't help but glow. No matter how many times people tell you, it just doesn't get tiresome!

"You understand," Professor McGonagall continues, "That although you have gone back in time- using the correct amount of turns- the actions that you performed in that time period will simply be repeated whilst you can attend another class?"

"Yes, Professor."

"And in light of this, you may NOT be seen or heard by your past self or others that have conversed with you or seen you in another class or in the school corridors?"

"Yes, Professor." I nod again, almost violently. As if I would ever dream of upsetting the Chronology Protection Conjuncture! That would completely reinstitute the Fermi Paradox…but of course I'm sure Professor McGonagall knows all about this…

"Then quickly stow it away, Miss Granger, and we shall proceed to the Great Hall for the end of the Sorting. I wish you luck with your endeavours for this year."

--

"So what did McGonagall want?" Ron demands shovelling a Yorkshire pudding into his mouth whole. I slice a new potato neatly into halves, and then quarters, before popping a piece into my mouth. I chew it ten times, wash it down with some pumpkin juice, and then dab at my lips with the corner of a napkin. All of this is to buy me some time to think of something- and it is also good manners, that I'm hoping will brush off on him.

"_Professor _McGonagall," I correct him, "Just wanted to talk to me about my timetable. There was a little mistake."

"What, have you applied to take private lessons with Lockhart? At St. Mungos?" He sniggers, but the talk of lessons cuts off his interest at once, and he returns to his trough. I sniff and blush slightly at the mention of Professor Lockhart. Silly Ronald. If he knew the lengths I was going to, the hurdles I am preparing to leap…although he doesn't really know what a hurdle is…he'd be impressed, not mocking.

He would. He _would _be impressed.

Although maybe he would just shake his head and call me a show off.

I never seem to be able to get it right.

Meanwhile, Harry is still sore from fainting on the train. Poor Harry…but still, I was a little concerned that he couldn't identify what the Dementors were- there was a whole _chapter _on them in the Defence Against the Dark Arts book for Third Years …sometimes I get the suspicion that neither him nor Ron even _look _at their books before the new school year!

"Harry, aren't you going to eat any of your food?" I ask timidly. He's spearing his sprouts mutinously, glaring darkly at his meal.

"I'm not really hungry." He does look rather pale- but before I can even catalogue any symptoms for the after effects of shock in my head, Ron's fork flashes out of nowhere and within seconds Harry's plate is clean. Harry doesn't seem bothered.

"Ronald, the table is fit to _bust _with seconds, thirds and fourths!" I say disapprovingly.

"What if I want fifths?" He shot back, already halfway through Harry's food. Indignance shoots through me but I really can't be bothered to argue with Ron. Although my friend has never been as fond as books as I have, he always has the comeback that I can never quite grasp in time. Sometimes, when I'm brooding over it in bed the evening after, I come up with the _perfect _line but it's just too late. Even if I researched and researched the art of comic irony, my mind would fail me at that precise moment.

Although, when I think about it, if having quick wit meant I would have to trade in my grades, Ron can keep his little laughs.

As Ron tries to coax Harry into talk about Quidditch, I decide to switch off in the only opportunity that I feel comfortable doing so. My mind drifts away from "Waffles" and "Nudgers" to the little hourglass tucked beneath my robes, giving off a small amount of heat against my skin.

It's going to be an exciting year!

* * *

_**You BET it is ;D**_

_**Reviiiewwwssss…suggestions would also be well received if you have any interesting ideas :) **_


	2. The Temptation Begins

**The Temptation Begins…**

Oh, I've just had the most WONDERFUL few weeks!

So many subjects…so much information, juicy and inviting! I've never felt so alive, so in my element…this buzz just keeps coursing through me like an electric circuit, not unlike the circle of Heiraphortexes that Professor Muntag explained to us in Ancient Runes just this morning!

Although I can't exactly explain my feelings to any of my friends…hardly _any _of them know what an electric circuit is.

Using the Timeturner has been fascinating also. A single turn takes you back by roughly one hour, so it's been easy fitting it around my lessons, since they last one hour each anyway. There were a few sticky moments where Ron demanded an explanation on how I was attending three lessons at once, but it was easy to just snap at him so he'd drop it. That way he assumed everything was just like normal.

So far nothing as awful as running into myself or people who've just spoken to me has happened. Although I had to run _very _quickly through the corridors to catch up with Ron and Harry after supposedly attending their Charms lesson with them to go to lunch; my past self had already stolen into a cupboard to take…_me _back so I could then go to Arithmancy. It's very hard to get used to. And it means that the school day lasts much longer… I've never _enjoyed _the Education System so much!

Right now, I'm stroking my new cat, Crookshanks, at a table in the Common Room as I go through my first set of Ancient Runes translations. He's purring happily, so I think I'm quite good with animals! That should help for Care of Magical creatures…I wonder if the subject of household pets will come up in Muggle Studies…

Harry and Ron burst through the Portrait Hole, lugging between them a very old and heavy looking book. Fellow Gryffindors make way for them as they heave it over to the table next to mine. I watch with horror as they simply_ throw_ it down and scrape a couple of chairs over.

"Have you no _respect_?!" I hiss. It's as if they have personally betrayed me- they _know _of my fondness for books. Gingerly, I lift the cover and take a peek at the inside. With a whimper I close it again- with care, "It's a _Library _book!" I say with dismay.

They don't seem very guilty.

"We needed help with our Potions essay!" Ron says, "So we followed your example and went to the Library for one of the first times without you telling us to- you should be _proud _of us."

"Well, not that I'm not _relieved _that you didn't…but why didn't you just come to me for help?" I ask, slightly offended that they hadn't, but not letting on. That would only encourage them.

"No offence, but you've been a bit out of it this month, with all this homework." Ron replies, subconsciously peeling back the protective film of the book nervously. I slap his hand away.

"Well…" I can't really hide my shock, "I don't think I've been _'out of it'_ at all! I've just been spending a bit more extra time on my homework- as if that's a bad thing! I haven't missed anything important anyway! Nothing's _happened _this term."

They gape at me.

Maybe I _have _missed something, then.

"Let's start from day one," Ron says, determined to prove me wrong obviously, "On our first day, Professor Trelawney predicted Harry was going to _die-_"

"Well he _is _isn't he? Eventually?" I argue fiercely, "And as if that fraud knows anything-"

"_Later _on our first day," Harry interrupts, "I rode a Hippogriff, which then attacked Malfoy savagely moments later."

"Oh-oh yes…" I whimper faintly, vaguely remembering the blood.

"Then there was Sirius Black being sighted- remember him? The scary Dark Wizard who broke out of tip top security in Azkaban and is now _after_ Harry-"

"W-well…you hear so _much _in the news these days…" I say feebly, wondering when they will come to a finish.

"Neville practically dressed up Snape in his Granny's clothes in Defence Against the Dark Arts…"

"_Professor _Snape." I correct sternly.

"Your stupid cat attacked Scabbers." Ron says darkly, eyeing Crookshanks suspiciously before his eyes flickered to the stairs, where Scabbers was probably hiding in the boy's dormitory.

"Alright, alright, so I've missed a lot." I scowl, "But really, I'm _fine _with the work. If anything this has been the best term yet!"

They don't seem to agree, particularly about Harry's predicted demise and the loose convict after him.

"Well it's obvious you care more about your perfect Grades than Harry's _life_." Ron says, quite meanly actually. I blush, desperately trying to think of something, a comeback, anything, just _something _to get back at him.

I splutter to a halt.

"Thought so." Ron says snidely, "C'mon, Harry, let's do this upstairs."

And after lifting the heavy book between them, they continue on to lug it up the stairs with much difficulty. After a few moments of them grunting and wheezing, George Weasley saunters over, performs a levitating charm with a flick of his wand and takes it up to the top of the stairs for them before letting it fall back down again.

"Second thoughts- do it yourself." He says, before strolling off whistling. Ron swears loudly after him.

--

As always, I'm in bed brooding about another little argument with Ron. I'm _sure _there is a comment to say back to him, somewhere in this brain of mine…how can I possibly fail at something so trivial?

I try to tell myself to get some sleep- I have yet _another _long day ahead of me. But I just cannot switch off. It seems that I just won't be able to rest until I think of something. But then it will only aggravate me more that I wouldn't be able to say it to him after all that hard work.

_Click._

Of COURSE! A comeback that would've done perfectly! And there it is, the typical frustration. I can't believe that I thought of it so late again. It's times like these that I wish there was a way to turn back time-

_Click._

Am I Hermione Granger or _not? _How can my brain be working so slowly tonight?

I open my eyes and turn to see it there, glowing dimly on my bedside table. Its faint light is impossible to look away from as it stains the darkness.

_No, Hermione, remember the _rules. _The rules. The RULES._

_You may not abuse it! _

_Professor McGonagall made it so clear! She had to write so many letters to the Ministry Of Magic to explain what a good student you are!_

_Remember your spotless record!_

_...Your endless achievements!_

_Don't throw it all away on some silly whim-_

But the Timeturner is in my sweaty palms, and I find myself thinking quicker than I have all evening. I yank my school robes on over my pyjamas and jam my bare feet into my shoes- I can feel my wand in my pocket. I feel my conscience, the thing that I have followed my whole life, trying to cancel out my adrenaline, trying to extinguish my desperation to make Ron look like an _idiot. _And all it takes is his stupid sneer in my mind as I splutter to a halt, knowing that he'd won, just two hours before.

Two hours.

The Timeturner spins twice in my palm, and then the whole room melts into a blur. The familiar rushing winds scream in my ear as I'm pulled backwards, leaving the peaceful dormitory behind, along with the Sensible Hermione.

--

I stumbled as I recognize the corridor I was just about to walk through. Not me, the _past _me.

My heart raced as I leapt through the first door I saw. I hadn't even concocted a strategy this time. I really had left myself behind- everything would have to be played by ear.

Footsteps…

It's me.

As quietly and as gently as I could, I pushed the door open to get a look at myself. And to get a good aim.

"_Confundo." _I hissed, pointing my wand at this other Hermione. She stumbled slightly as I had upon landing here and looked around, dazed.

"Oh, yes, I'd better have a bath…" She burbled, "Lot's of bubbles…maybe a ducky…" And…she, I suppose, tottered back the way she had come.

I waited until she had turned the corner before stepping out and resuming the path that she had meant to take. In roughly ten minutes, Ron and Harry were to come into the Common Room, and abuse the Library Book.

I stepped through the portrait hole, trying to look as innocent as possible, and resumed my seat at the table. Right on que, Crookshanks sprang onto my lap and I started to stroke him, just as I had before.

Soon enough, the boys made their clumsy entrance. I watched, unable to look away as they made to throw the book down upon the table top.

Instinctively, I whipped out my wand and performed a swift cushioning charm to insure that the aged book bobbed down pleasantly, resting lightly upon the table top as gently as...as a baby would rest its head... upon its mother's chest…

What? I _do _love books, you know.

"Be careful with Library Books!"

"It's just a book, Hermione." Ron said, rolling his eyes.

"_Just?!_" I spat incredulously, "You will _rue _the day, Ronald, wh-"

"Alright, alright- you sound like Madam Pince." He muttered, shuddering at the memory of the severe librarian as he took a seat.

It was important that this conversation didn't go off track- I needed to satisfy this ridiculous whim that seemed stupider with every second that ticked by as the awkward silence was stretched further and further, until taught and ready to snap.

It was as though I had forgotten my lines in a play.

"Oh! S-so, why aren't you asking me for help?" I stammered. Harry and Ron exchanged looks of confusion.

"…with what."

"Your Potions essay!"

"…how did you know we were doing a Potions essay?" Harry asked, since we hadn't seen each other since dinner. Obviously, I had been swamped with homework.

"Because of your book!" I said, pointing at it violently. My voice was becoming shriller- what if I was found out? Why didn't I think this _through_?

Ron turned the book on its front, gently I was glad to see. I read the title.

"_Writing the Perfect Essay_…" I said aloud, "Oh. Nothing about Potions there…well…as you would've noticed…" Hermione, get this conversation back on track! "I _have_ been a bit 'out of it' lately."

Perfect!

"Yeah." Ron said, wrinkling his nose, "But I guess you've had a lot of work to do."

…WHAT?! Ron, being accepting? Ron, being fair, level headed, _considerate_? The words would turn to ash on anyone's tongue if they dared say these things about the boy aloud!

Perhaps it needed to turn into a disagreement from me to spur on his argumentative side.

"Oh, so you're saying I _have _been 'out of it'?" I demanded, a little desperately. Ron and Harry both looked startled. In complete panic, my mind was wiped blank of what had come next the last time we had sat here together.

"Um…because…" I stuttered. They waited expectantly.

Why had my memory -that I would fondly liken to the size of a vast labyrinth and with the hold of a spider's web (secretly, of course) - failed me now?

Think..._think..._

BINGO! Sweet epiphany…

"It's not as if ANYTHING important has happened this year anyway!" I wrap it up, finishing with a wild gesture of my hands. They flinched, but remained silent.

"…except Trelawney predicting Harry's death?" Ron suggested- but meekly, as if he was worried that I would steal his nose.

"…Yes?" I prompted.

"And…Sirius Black is after me?" Harry hazarded a guess at whether this was important or not.

"…Carry on!" I said, eager, waving my arms like windmills. They now looked very confused.

"Ooh! Ooh!" Ron suddenly became more animated- this was becoming very much like a classroom scene-"Buckbeak attacked Malfoy- that was great."

"Very good." I encouraged, smiling, "So you see, I _haven't _noticed much this year- not even Harry's impending doom! How bad is that?"

Silence. I could tell they were curious as to what I was even getting at.

"So…?" I prompted, looking straight at Ron. He shifted in his seat, uncomfortable.

"This means that I…?" I continued, a twitch going in my jaw.

Still no response.

"It _means,_" I jumped out my seat, having finally lost my patience, "That I care _more _about my 'perfect grades' that Harry's life, Ron!" I mean, how hard was that to get? It was a miracle that I even gave them the opportunity to answer themselves instead of taking it for myself…which I suppose I did anyway.

They looked appalled.

Oh.

I could see how that could've been taken the wrong way.

How should one get oneself out of such a sticky situation…?

_Oh, forget it and just do the deed that you caused all this fuss for! USE THE COMEBACK!!!_

"Well, Ronald," I said loftily, as if this was entirely his fault, which would've been true in a completely different time zone. I hunched my shoulders, clenched my fists and raised my head as I looked down at him with disdain.

Wait for it- this really was the best comeback I'd ever given, and I could _actually _say it to him this time!

"You've got a face your own mother couldn't love."

And with that, I turned on my heel and flounced out of the room, with a certain spring to my step.

I should think _that _put him in his place! I raced up the stairs to my dormitory, my heart racing, feeling jubilant.

Well, despite the confusion at the beginning, I think that went quite well, and breaking the rules was completely worth it!

Of course, I'll never do it again...

--

_**Riiight Hermione, you'll leave it at that will you?**_

_**But there's just SO much MORE for you to get up to!**_

_**What did you think? That was one of the more elaborate messes she gets herself into, the other ones may be easier to follow...**_

_**REVIEWS!! OPINIONS!! HATEMAIL if it means getting feedback lol! **_

_**I'm still open to suggestions for possible shenanigans that she could get caught up in! You'll get credit ;D**_


	3. The UNTHINKABLE

**The UNTHINKABLE**

I've seriously considered turning myself into Azkaban.

What sort of monstrous person AM I? Ignoring clear, stern, vital instructions for my own personal gain? All for a comeback?

But the adrenaline rush _was _inexplicable- the look of utter bewilderness on Ron's freckled face is something I admit I'd never trade for perfect conduct.

Still, as I hurry down the deserted Corridor to Charms, certain that the Timeturner didn't take me back far enough to get there on time, I can't help but feel as though several Ministry Officials will spring from behind a statue and tackle me to the floor as I try to tell them of my endless academic achievements in choked sobs-

"Oof! _Do _watch where you're goi- Miss Granger?"

"Professor McGonagall!" I squeak, heat fizzling through me.

"Why aren't you in class? It's still the first les- oh." She squints at me as if I had something different about me, like a moustache, "Is this…the _other you_?"

I understand what she means. I nod, afraid to open my mouth in case I confess my crime in one rushed breath.

"Well, you've gone back a little too far; it's still five minutes until the next lesson begins. I expect you thought you were late- that would explain you indenting my person."

I nod again feverently. "S-Sorry." I manage to it out through gritted teeth. She narrows her eyes at my suspicious behaviour.

"How are you finding it- not too strenuous I hope?"

"No no, it's been brilliant!" I hurry, the banks bursting as I ramble on, "I'm having the most wonderful time! It's almost like travelling with the Doctor in the TARDIS, you know the one?"

"Doctor who?" She asks, looking slightly perplexed.

"_Exactly_!!!" I beam, before my bubbly façade cracks and I have to duck around her just as the bell sounds for the next lesson.

--

Ah, the perfect serenity of the classroom. Gazing around this stone walled paradise, I feel myself unwind once again, my unmanageable hair releasing most of its static energy. Professor Flitwick clambered upon his teetering pile of lovely books and squeaked his feeble command for silence. I relax into my upright, alert position and take a deep breath.

_Forget everything, Hermione. Here, you are a superstar…_I chant the same words I say to myself at the beginning of every lesson and feel the electric current begin to buzz once more.

"Alright everyone, alright," Professor Flitwick calls, "Today we're going to have a go at making our quills tickle the people sitting next to us. Now, beware, if you cast this too strongly, it may be very hard to lift the enchantment and um…well let's just say last year, a certain boy lost control of his…um…bodily functions."

As we all sit there, transfixed in horror by the idea that by the end of the lesson, one of us might have soiled ourselves, Professor Flitwick continues to talk.

"Now, can anyone remind us of Markle's two laws of inter-persons enchantment?"

And there it is, the heat blooming somewhere in my stomach, the trill in my abdomen that not even the most dashing boy could summon, the tiny portion of air that is gasped through my clenched teeth as my hand shoots through the air like an arrow from a centaur, my fingers formed in the position I've practised secretly, in order for it to be as streamlined as possible to whip up in the quickest time I can manage, so I can beat them all, every single person in the class who has never worked as hard as I have, to know the answers before the curriculum is even confirmed, who has read her books before they were even set, who has even taken a quick peek at one or two teachers' lesson plans to know what area of study was next…

"Miss Granger?" Hardly a second has passed- Professor Flitwick doesn't even have to look at me as he says my name, he knows I am ready. And the words flow.

"One: Make Sure The Person Whom You Are Practising Enchantments With Is Someone You Trust.  
Two: Always Be Certain About Which Incantation You Are Uttering and Which Wand Movements You Are Performing."

"Five points to Gryffindor on account of your photographic memory, Miss Granger." He says, although he doesn't sound quite as jubilant as he had in my first year of Hogwarts, "Now can anyone remember the origin of the popular tickling charm?"

My hand strikes the air once again.

"Miss Gr-"

"Orion Withers, in Somerset, 1567! He used the charm to get out of a series of arrests from the law for stealing sheep."

Professor Flitwick stares at me for a moment. My fellow students are propping their heads up with their hands, or completely slumping over the desk altogether, obviously bored with me answering questions again. I stare back at Professor Flitwick. I expect he's surprised because of my memory again, although I did stay up late last night to read through the creation of-

"Incorrect."

There's a huge gasp as together, the whole class sits up straight. Every eye is on me, awaiting my reaction. I have never given an incorrect answer.

I choke back the urge to scream. My mind…my precious mind has _failed _me. I feel as if an old friend as stabbed me in the back. The toasty room has been robbed of all it's warmth; I draw a shuddery gasp through my numb lips.

_No! _I inwardly shriek, _Three years of perfect answers…I'm ruined!_

_I'm so _stupid! _Why don't they just pull me back to the first years of education again, so I can actually _learn _something- what's _happened _to me! I'm just like _Ron _now!_

I'm just like Ron…

This realization goes through me like a knife as I shoot a glance at my red headed friend, who looks as if he doesn't know whether to laugh or not.

"That is actually the Origin of the _itching _charm…" Professor Flitwick says in almost a whisper, as if breaking the news of a death in the family.

"Excuse me." I choke, and grabbing my things, I stand up and stumble out of the silent room.

--

As soon as the door clicks shut behind me I begin to hyperventilate. Blinded by pure horror, I feel my way along the corridor, until I duck behind a tapestry into a hidden chamber Fred and George had once told Ron about.

Professor Flitwick must've been wrong, he _must've._ Gasping squeakily, my fingers trembling, I yank out my Charms book with much less care than it deserves and tear through the pages. I come to a stop at the chapter I want- and there it is, in black and white, staring up at me.

My failure. The true Origin of the tickling charm. Weston-Super-Mare, 1387, Charlotte Charm. How convenient a name for such a HORRIBLE WOMAN.

Not that it is anything to do with her…

If only I could change this…If only no one saw this happen…

I know what I _can _do.

I know what I _shouldn't _do.

_It's just a stupid question!_ That's what Ron would say…wise, stupid Ron… but what would he say after that? For how long would he tease me mercilessly about my little mistake?

It's a slippery slope…what if this is just the beginning? What if I never get a question right again? _I must save my reputation!!!_

But…oh goodness…I really _can't _do this again- it was bad enough when I did it the first time! I could barely look Professor McGonagall in the eye!

Yet…

…Slowly, I draw out the Timeturner. It glints in the shaded enclosure, winking at me, reassuring me, daring me…

Squeezing my eyes shut- as if not seeing myself doing this _terrible _thing will mean I didn't do it- I give the Timeturner a half turn. Half an hour.

And the room melts.

--


	4. Into the Fire

**Into the Fire**

It seems that every time I threw caution to the wind and broke the rules, I turned into a completely different person. As I launched myself into the nearest broom cupboard upon hearing Professor McGonagall's footsteps around the corner, my top button was mysteriously undone, my tie pulled askew and my hair ruffled. My heartbeat was brisk and I held my shallow breath back to listen for the collision.

"Oof! _Do _watch where you're go- Miss Granger?..."

I tuned out as my mind desperately tried to devise a distraction for the other Hermione, aware that I only had a few seconds before she hurried past me.

There was the bell ringing…any second now…

THINK, HERMIONE! _**THINK**_!!!

Her quickening footsteps…

With no other plan on my mind and completely forgetting my wand, I kicked the door open, caught the passing Hermione by the neck of her robes and dragged her in, slamming the door behind us.

Luckily, in the dark, she could make nothing of her kidnapper, but simply screamed against my hands, that muffled all noise along with the elephantine footsteps of hundreds of students on the move.

Making sure her wand hand was securely pressed between her back and the wall; I whipped out the…very same wand, actually and performed a bit of quick magic. Nothing too nasty, just something to keep her incapacitated for a few hours. I transfigured her into a Jack-In-The-Box and left her there, locking the door after me.

Alright, it seems cruel, but soon enough the charm would wear off and time will …I don't know, just…catch up with itself again! Yeah!

Within no time at all, I was back to Flitwick's classroom, buzzed and feeling very tightly strung.

"Alright, Hermione?" Ron asked, sliding into the seat next to me, "How wa-"

"Arithmancy was fine, thank you." I replied stiffly, remembering his question from the conversation we'd had the first time round. He blinked and fell silent. From the corner of my eye, I gazed adoringly at that particularly delightful sprinkle of freckles just beneath his left eye…

At that point, Professor Flitwick began the lesson, right on time.

_Forget everything, Hermione. Here, you are a superstar…_I told myself again, except this time it was rushed and not as powerful as I usually liked to say it in my head. _Oh- and get it _RIGHT _this time__. _I added fiercely.

"Alright everyone, alright," Professor Flitwick called, "Today we're going to have a go at making our quills tickle the people sitting next t…" Blah, blah, blah.

…What? True, normally I was not one to brush off a teacher's instructions, but I'd heard it all before, therefore what Professor Flitwick had told me half an hour before had been catalogued, word for word, into my mind already, available for looking over again at any time I fancied. So, it was not a thing of disrespect; it was merely to prevent myself mouthing or heaven forbid, actually saying Professor Flitwick's words in sync with him! And really I didn't want to draw attention to myself.

"Now, can anyone remind us of -"

"_MAKESURETHEPERSONWHOMYOUAREPRACTISINGENCHANTMENTSWITHISOMEONEYOUTRUSTALWAYSBECERTAINABOUTWHICHINCANTATIONYOUAREUTTERINGANDWHICHWANDMOVEMENTSYOUAREPERFORMING!!!"_

I had surpassed what I thought was my fastest talking speed! But…it appeared that Ron's lovely nose was bleeding profusely, the entire class was staring at me with even more admiration than usual and Professor Flitwick was clinging onto his pedestal of books as if he'd nearly fallen off of it. What had happened in this brief blank of consciousness as a white flash impaired my vision during a time of which I had no recollection…?

Using my whizzing powers of deduction, I _think_ I might've lightly clipped Ron's lovely nose whilst putting my hand up in the air, startled Professor Flitwick by answering so…enthusiastically and rendered my classmates into a state of envy and disbelief at my fast reply to our teacher's question.

"It pains me to say it, Miss Granger," Professor Flitwick gasped as he struggled back onto his pile of books, "But I'm afraid I'm going to have to take five points from Gryffindor for interrupting a teacher whilst he is talking!"

…

The walls were closing in. I hadn't lost a SINGLE house point, not ONE little gem from that Hourglass since that incident with Norman or…Nigel, that blasted Dragon Hagrid decided to take in, which was in my FIRST year. I was a hell-raising _tyrant _back then! But now, I was back on the straight and narrow, looking to the future, to my career, to Ro- to a husband and children! What would happen now I had returned back to those dark times?!

Once again, I was finding it difficult to breath.

"P-please, P-professor!" I gasped, clutching onto the hard wooden table so hard my fingers went numb, "Please, NO! It was the right answer, I tell you! None of _them _would get it anyway!!!" I twisted wildly to gesture to the rest of the class. Some looked miffed, others looked uninterested and a few even shrugged in acceptance.

"Even so, Miss Granger, I believe in fair discipline. Now please take your seat."

I hadn't realized that I was now standing on the table, my hands knotted indefinitely into my crazy hair. With as much grace as I could muster, I jumped off of the desk and yanked my fingers free, trembling.

"Fanks, 'Ermyknee...!" Ron burbled grumpily through his blood. I mean, what a crybaby!

I blinked back bitter tears, furious with myself and at that tiny, wretched, old coot!

_Hermione_! I scolded myself, abashed at the thoughts even my strongly self-disciplined mind could not filter in time.

…_Professor _coot, then. Either way, I wasn't going to give that tiny little man who was really a dwarf in denial the satisfaction of my knowledge- so _what _if I interrupted him! The fact that I knew the _question_ as well as the answer in advance surely qualified for some sort of bonus praise! Well, he could take that extra knowledge and…and use it as a bookmark!!! With a self-satisfied smirk, I folded my arms resolutely, and for the first time ever, sat back in my chair.

As well as the other-worldy comfort of my back being supported whilst I sat, something I had never experienced before, it would also be enjoyable watching my classmates squirm with discomfort and doubt once Professor Flitwick asked a question. Afterlooking to me for the answer and realizing they most certainly were _not _going to get it, the fools would feel the truth dawn on them; that all of them were stupid.

I suppressed a small, bubbling cackle of glee, waiting for the question that _now_, after a small, and what would now never be, mistake, I would know the answer to.

"Now can anyone remember the origin of the popular tickling charm- _and,_" He paused, glancing at me in the crowd.

And? I did not recall that little add on, perhaps it was because I had answered so swiftly the first time. I stared back at him, narrowing my eyes slightly as I knew he was expecting the answer from me. Well, here's the punchline, you little goblin, _I'm _not going to deliver!

"And how about we try this _without _Miss Granger's 'assistance', for a change."

The molten pride and bubbling satisfaction immediately solidified to stone.

Professor Coot didn't require my 'assistance'?

Has the fool gone BATTY!? As if any of these cretins would know! I felt a twitch jump in my jaw as I battled to keep the look of wretched indignance from my face. I twisted my lips into what I hoped was a serene smile, a look of gratitude, relief that I didn't have to carry the rest of the class's educational progress on my shoulder's any longer, a pioneer, an idol, their _leader…_I'M _ALWAYS_ THE LEADER!!!

Luckily, the bratty stamping of my foot upon the stone floor was drowned out by screeches of chairs being pushed back as students sat up a little straighter, murmurs of interest zipping throughout the classroom and rustles of paper as people took up the art of research to answer a question that was, for once, open for the taking.

I sat there like a ventriloquist's dummy, perfectly still, my eyes wide and haunting and my mouth clamped shut as cold sweat beaded on my back.

And then, the torture commenced.

"Uhhh, by that guy…y'know, Willie Winky or something…I dunno…1966 in South Africa?"

_No…_ I said in my head, my words echoed aloud by Professor Coo- …Professor Flitwick.

"Mavis Dinkerpoo, Spain, 1826?

_Ever met a Spanish person called 'Mavis Dinkerpoo'? _I thought savagely to myself, my palms beginning to sweat.

"Ooh! How about Jamie Oliver, in the Middle Ages?"

_FOOLS!!! _I howled silently, wanting to weep.

"Okay, I've got it, Charlotte Charm, 1382, Weston-Super-Mare!"

"AHA!!!" I shrieked, the banks bursting open as I wrenched myself out of my chair and flung out a pointed finger in the direction of the nasty wrong-doer. Many people around me tutted and gave me disapproving looks but did I care? NO!

"CHARLOTTE CHARM DISCOVERED THE TICKLING CHARM IN THIRTEEN EIGHTY-_SEVEN_!!!"

Silence.

"Hermione," Ron said quietly, tugging at my sleeve thus bringing me back down to earth, "It says 1382 in the book."

"…_What._" I snapped, turning my burning eyes on him. Since _when _has a book failed me? Silly, foolish, adorable, twittering, idiotic, darling, stupid Ron, I thought to myself in a mixture of emotions as I snatched the book from his hands…_gently _and flicked to the correct page number that I knew as well as my own name.

…

"..Well."

…

It was remarkably SHOCKING how in a book that was sure to carry Historical DATES such a STUPID font was used, a font that rendered the difference between the number seven and the number two almost_ IMPOSSIBLE_ to detect!!!

Seething and wobbling like Dobby's little knees, I slammed the book onto the desk and returned to my seat, sitting upright again. After a moment, I came out of my furious hurricane and realized that it was Harry whom I'd attacked ruthlessly. He looked a little pale. He could feel sorry enough for himself. I turned my back on him and desperately tried to act calm as I pretended to read.

Well, I had breached the rules of the Timeturner yet again for a less than positive outcome…Even on the second attempt, I couldn't put things right. If I was brutally honest, things may have become even _worse._

That settled things then.

_Hermione, _I used my sternest voice, _You are to use the Timeturner for NOTHING but lessons._ _If you breach this binding mental contract, I shall be forced to…make you feel very guilty which will cause you to confess to Professor McGonagall which would bring SHAME upon you!!!_

I whimpered aloud.

There. That should do the trick.

--

It happens just a few minutes after I have caught up with the present to then use a free study period that I am granted each week- the only third year in my form! It's about time I took a break from that rather tempting artefact…

I am just finishing off an essay in the Common Room, one that isn't too long, only around five or six rolls of parchment, when I hear very familiar noises, and I'm not talking about what Oliver Wood and his girlfriend sneak into a broom cupboard. Scuffles, the brushing of a tail against pine wood panelling and tiny, terrified squeals accompany them. Crookshanks was after Scabbers again…

Sighing, I pull myself to my feet to fetch my cat. Ron can be so paranoid sometimes, although it does make his fingers curl and ears redden in a way that makes me want to purr like Crookshanks as the feeling takes a strong hold of him... Anyway, he just doesn't seem to realize that Crookshanks is only playing, just a bit of cat and mouse, that's all. He likes to gain dominance, to be the Alpha Animal! There's no reason for him to hurt him at all! He's such a lovely cat…

As I swing open the door to the boy's dormitory, however, I am met with quite a contradiction.

Crookshanks, looking very pleased with himself, is sitting upon a crumpled and very still Scabbers.

"Um…Crookshanks, don't sit on Scabbers, it's rude." I try, my demand curling up at the end which really takes away my authority. My cat does not move. It takes a great deal of prodding and tsking, and when Crookshanks has finally relinquished his throne, I suppose Scabbers would've been dead anyway from suffocation, if it wasn't for the fact that his grey, mottled head was actually halfway across the room.

_I can fix that. _I think to myself desperately, my hand already stealing down the front of my robes.

--

_**What did you think? XD She is REALLY losing it now, folks! **_

_**Reviews, suggestions, hatemail, I'll take it all ;D**_

_**Caspre x  
**_


	5. The Plot unsurprisingly Thickens

**Sorry it's been so long! GCSEs and whatnot, just to bring you up to speed, Hermione has humiliated herself by giving an incorrect answer in class, completely flying off the handle, and felt the need to violate the rules of the timeturner to correct her mistake only to mess up again. Which was very distressing.**

**The end of the chapter left Hermione going back in time **_**again**_** to rescue Scabbers from the claws of Crookshanks XD **

**Enjoy!

* * *

**

**The Plot (unsurprisingly) Thickens**

This time around, my planning isn't as neat and tidy. I come across my self in the Common Room, just starting my essay. She looks up, see's me, and let's loose.

"WE'RE NOT MEANT TO TIME TRAVEL ANYMORE!!!" She screams like a spoilt child, throwing out an accusing finger at me. Is this what I really look like when deluded? I wince- it's almost painful to watch.

"Now, Hermione, let's not get upset...let's just talk about thi-"

"No!!! I EXPLICITLY WARNED US TH-"

With a flick of my wand, the other Hermione takes on a most peculiar form- she becomes two-dimensional. With another swish of my wand, she disappears and then reappears in a painting on the wall of two wizards and a hippogriff. They start at her sudden appearance, and the other Hermione looks positively outraged. She storms forwards, as if this will free her or simply thinks 'KILL' at the sight of me, and only gets knocked back by the barrier. Her hair seems to frizz out of control and her oil painted eyes bulge.

"HOW DARE YOU!?!" She shrieks, "WE DON'T EVEN KNOW THE COUNTER CURSE FOR THIS ONE!"

"Exactly," I snap, "Now go to the paintings in the library or someting, I have to do something! I'll find out how to set you free when I catch up with time again!"

Not quite as interesting an adventure this time..I simply shut Crookshanks in my dormitory, although the resounding click does leave me with a feeling of pride that I have protected something Ron apparently holds dear to his heart.

Scabbers is SO lucky.

This little escapade- that I am in no way proud of- however, gives me some extra time to do my essay over again, just for a review, you know, and to add more to it. It is now twelve rolls of parchment long, which should be satisfactory.

So...this leaves me with some extra time.

Firstly, I check on Scabbers, just to verify that Crookshanks hadn't already maimed him in some way. Luckily he's fine, sitting on Ronald's bed eating an old sock. I stroke him with a finger for a second, before pocketing Ron's toothbrush and leaving the dormitory whistling innocently.

I try reading, but I find it hard to concentrate, as the spine of the book is the exact shade of Ron's fingernails, and I find myself staring into the colour, becoming lost and completely disregarding the infinitive verbs for Goblin speak.

If I can't read, then there is simply nothing to do.

The clock ticks.

The fire crackles.

My left eye twitches.

Eventually, my thoughts drift to Ron.

It may come as a great surprise, but recently, and only VERY recently, I've been seeing Ron in rather a different light.

Shocking, I know.

And, really, I expected that the boy who caught my eye would be someone of slightly more impressive intellect, and I'm aware that I frequently compare Ron to a baboon and find myself torn between who could assemble a jigsaw quicker, but he really is something.

Maybe it's the way he looks at me; with complete and utter reverence. I can tell how much he respects me, and why shouldn't he? I've become a sort of role model for him and Harry, it's only natural that I should emerge to be someone they admire. It's not as if they only use me for help with homework!

Maybe it's his golden red hair, the way it curls underneath his ear, his adorable ears that stain the colour of a rose whenever we have our playful banter, which I know he enjoys just as much as I do.

I snap out my reverie when I look down and see that I've been scrawling the name 'Mrs Hermione Weasley' all over my parchment. With a gasp and a wave of my wand it bursts into flames and curls into nothing in mid air, so no one would ever see it!

The bell trilled through the common room- I had dreamed my whole free period away! I hurried off to potions, feeling slightly guilty for neglecting to find the counter curse for making myself a portrait figure. But she'll be fine, and she wouldn't want me to miss a lesson! Although we could just....use to timeturner to...well, I wasn't quite ready to face her yet. I'm scary when I'm angry!

I'm hurrying down the corridor, and run into Harry and Ron. I smile at them both, especially at Ron, as if to say 'oh, saving your rat? It was nothing!' I then giggle to myself as it is a secret. They look perplexed.

"Alright, Hermione?"

"YES!" I reply, anxious to act completely normal, "I'm completely REGULAR thank you for asking, very kind of you, and yourself?"

But Ron doesn't have the time to answer, because he is interrupted by a figure in a portrait.

"STAY AWAY FROM HIM!!!"

Honestly, because of their age and of the decaying oil in the paintings, some of the people in these portraits can be so rude as to even interrupt the conversations of the students passing in the corr- OH.

It isn't just a normal figure in the portrait. In fact, they look rather familiar. If you look past the moustache and the tied back hair and the renaissance soldier's uniform she is wearing, you can see it is actually the _other_ me in disguise, sitting in a portrait that is retelling the discovery of some kind of potion that reversed hair loss. If looks could kill, I would be dead from the steady glare she's giving me from that apocathery table.

Ron and Harry are now scrutinizing the painting.

"Hey, she looks familiar." Ron says, stepping closer. Even though my fingers are at this moment twining themselves around his bag strap without me really noticing it, I think to myself how stupid he is. I mean, honestly, I would be able to pick out Ron's face from the crowds at a Quidditch match! Although I'm always next to him at these- it's a perfect opportunity to be close enough to smell his neck without being noticed.

"Sounds familiar..." Harry chips in.

"COME ON!" I chirrup, grabbing their wrists and pulling them like a horse and cart as the Hermione in the portrait screeched after me: "COME BACK!" in almost the exact same tone as I had just used.

"Do you _know _the guy in the pictu-?"

"No." I snap, and finally, we approach the steps that lead down to the dungeons.

After settling into the brewing of a Courage and Conquest Draught in Potions, I engage in pleasant conversation with Ron and Harry.

"So, Hermione, we're going to go to the Library at lunch-"

"Ah, so you've finally thought to take my advice," I interrupt grandly, "I daresay you'll thank me after a five hour session-"

"Not for a bloody essay," Ron says, even though he knows I'm insusceptible to such language, "For Buckbeak's case! You said you'd help too, remember?"

I think back, and remember vaguely something about a strange pony, and decide to run with it.

"Yes, I do remember, Ron." I say condescendingly, "It's really quite shocking that you forgot that I remember, you know."

"Are you trying to make _me _look bad because _you _forgot?" He asks, rather rudely actually. I watch him, perplexed.

"You could never look bad..." I whisper, forgetting myself.

"_What?_"

"I-I said that you _never _mix blad!" I correct myself, grabbing Ron's arm to stop him stirring what is apparently 'blad'.

"I've only added Dragon Heartstring so far!" He retorts, shaking himself free. I fight back tears at his _horrible _behaviour! I saved his DAMNED rat, didn't I?

All I want is his affection! I try and help him with his potion and I get rejected! I sit there moping to myself as I create a perfect potion, but there is no joy in my success today.

How? HOW can I please this boy?! Do I dye my hair ginger? Knit myself an awful jumper? Bring him _lots _and _lots _of food? What am I- a worthless house elf?!

By now, Ron doesn't even acknowledge my anguish, just chats to Harry about his _precious _Chudley Cannons. I bet if _I _played for the Chudley Cannons he'd pay me a bit of attention for one. What a load of-

_Click. _

QUIDDITCH!!!

"Oh, Harry?" I simper, "When _is _your next Quidditch match? I would just _love _to be there!"

They stare.

"What _is _this 'blad' and have you been taking it?" Ron demands. I roll my eyes.

"Really," I shake my head, "I'm just interested in my friend's extra-curricular activities and how he fits them around his schoolwork!"

This seems to convince them.

"Now, Harry, you're not a player short are you?"

"...No..." He answers suspiciously.

"And you're the Sneaker?"

"Seeker." He corrects as Ron almost inhales his potion in outrage at my disregard for the little positions each player must be assigned to. Well no one's perfect and I'm _certainly _closer than HE is...academically..

"And there must be two beatings?"

"_Beaters, _Hermione."

"Oh my, yes. And of course a Creeper." I continue, nodding knowingly.

"That's _keeper_."

"Mmh. And then the three of those girls play chase don't they?"

"Yeah- _Chasers._" By now Ron is threatening to keel over in frustration.

"And what would happen...if one of those girls was injured?" I ask innocently, "Before a performance?"

"_Match, _Hermione. And we'd have to find a replacement, and quick."

I nod, "Thank you, that will be all."

They exchange suspicious looks, but because of the severe absurdity of me being anywhere _near _a broomstick seemed to assure them that I wasn't asking any of these questions for personal gain.

Although, if my plan went accordingly, we will have never had this conversation...

*

It's a couple of hours earlier, and I'm tailing Katie Bell. I've taken on a spy- like poise. I dart gracefully behind statues with the reflexes of a panther, and whistle innocently with the pitch of a bluebird whenever she looks around. I'm a _natural_, I can't believe I've never done this be-

"Hermione, do you want something?" Katie has approached my most recent hiding place, crouched behind a suit of armour, and is looking down at me with a rather disgruntled look on her face. Immediately I set to work pretending to polish it.

"I would _like _to see a caretaker with a love for polishing rather than persecution, that's what _I _would like, for one!" I reply, chuckling squeakily, getting to my feet and quavering slightly under her disbelieving look.

_Break the ice!!!_

"You have...lovely eyes." I attempt, but this seems to unsettle her even more.

_Act NOW Hermione! You drank the Courage and Conquest Draught that you made in Potions, didn't you? USE IT!_

I felt a surge of power and determination due to my perfectly concocted potion and raised my wand.

"It's a shame you won't...be..um...using them for the next quidditch match!" I stammered, unable to come up with a good line quick enough. With another skilled swish of my wand, Katie Bell disappears from this empty corridor (yes it's _empty, _I _said _I was good at the whole spy thing!) and in her place is a little rabbit.

"Now, let's find you a home." I say with sugary tones as I pick her up. She is sweet in anamorphous, simply sits there in my arms in bewilderment. It's probably the complete shock of Hermione Granger performing such a dastardly deed. The idea makes me feel positively horrible- but immediately after this feeling I want to cackle wildly.

*

My repeat of the Potions lesson goes according to plan.

"Hello boys!" I say chirpily, swanning to my seat as I observe Harry's worried face with glee.

"Hullo…" They reply. Perfect! They sound positively _miserable_!

"Now whatever could be the matter with you two?" I ask loudly, setting out my books in neat little piles.

"Katie Bell hasn't been turning up to her lessons." Ron explains glumly, "Professor McGonagall's going to ban her from the Quidditch Team for bunking off."

"Oh?" I gasp theatrically, "But that's very much _bad. _That's _very _much bad…"

Ron glared, "You don't have to pretend to care about Quidditch, Hermione."

I blink innocently, "But Ron, I've recently discovered that I absolutely adore Quidditch! I only had to read a few books on it to realize that it is my absolute passion!"

The next few moments last a long time. Harry and Ron collapse into laughter as if they will never be able to get a hold of themselves again. A few people from nearby tables who have been listening rudely to our conversation also begin to laugh at me as if I've said something ridiculous. Even Professor Snape has to cough a few times to maintain control of himself. I sit amidst this scene in complete silence, stony faced and unresponsive.

"WHAT'S SO FUNNY?!?!" I can't help but explode at them, "I could be good at Quidditch if I wanted to be!"

After all, I'm good at _everything_.

"Hermione," Ron chokes, "I think we all know that there are three things you're just not good at."

Those three things better be being impatient, failing tests and being bad at Quidditch…I glare at him in anticipation.

"And that's Quidditch, Divination and controlling your temper!"

"…I WILL PROVE YOU WRONG!!!" I scream, thinking I can see the blood in my eyeballs from fury. Doesn't he _know _I'm doing this for him? God he's so freaking STUPID!!!

"Oh yeah? Then we'll see you at the tryouts." Ron smirks. He expects me to splutter and refuse, but this is the challenge I have been working for. I grin as widely as I can back, and I swear I see him flinch.

"I'll see _you_ at the tryouts." I simper.

Quidditch. Flying. Throwing a Waffle.

How hard could it be?

*


	6. A load of Waffle

**A Load of Waffle**

The Quidditch Pitch is a lot bigger than it seems when you're actually standing in it. The high stands for onlookers tower above us, so it feels like I'm stuck in a fish bowl.

My chest tightens.

Harry bluntly refused to lend me his broomstick for the tryouts, so I'm borrowing a school one, which is quivering in my hand- is it meant to do that?

There are a few people who have been, and they were...well passable! Rather clumsy actually- I'm sure I'll have a better form like the one the handbook I have borrowed from the library described. I've been secretly practising it with a mop.

I take a quick scan of the spectators and immediately spot Ron's vibrant head in the crowds. He is watching me- I feel a lurch in my stomach, but why should I be nervous- I've read the handbook!

"Alright, next!"

Oh. I'm at the front of the queue. Now suddenly things seem a bit more daunting. Angelina and Alicia are already in the air, ready to pass me the Koffles so I can try and score against Wood who is circling the tall ring things...

I walk forwards, broomstick in one hand and handbook in the other. In the middle of the field, I turn to page one.

There's silence as people watch on, perhaps on tenterhooks.

Consulting the book, I swing a leg over the broomstick, and wobble slightly. The broom buzzes underneath me. I don't think it's meant to do that...

Right, _give a firm kick to the ground_. Easy! Why does Harry get so much _glory_?

With one foot I kick- and spin around a few feet above the ground before smashing to the floor.

This time, there is no laughter, just intakes of breath and sympathetic 'oohs'. Which I think is worse.

This could not have happened. I read the _book_! I did _exactly _what it said! KICK THE GROUND! Did I not kick the ground?! Well if I didn't, WHAT has caused me to end up on the floor in front of half of Hogwarts?!

Perhaps it is two feet with which one should kick.

Slowly I get up from the ground, and mount the broom again.

This time, I kick with both feet. I shoot up like a cork out of a bottle and end up shrieking in shock, my legs flailing helplessly beneath me. This is ...really...rather...high! And it's getting higher by the moment! How does one...slow this down?!

As I go higher and higher, the wind becoming more vicious, I let go of the broom and flick desperately through the handbook.

NOTHING!!

NOTHING ON HOW TO CONTROL A BROOMSTICK!?

WHAT AM I _DOING _UP HERE?!

Focus Hermione, focus- use your _mind_, become seperate from your body! Now, if you tilt the broom approximately 210 degrees and apply a pressure of around 20 newtons, you should be able to make a steady descent!

Sniffling and taking in squeaky breaths, I follow this method, and find myself losing height. I could make out the faces in the pitch and their shocked expressions.

"Ahem, sorry...about that." I say in a shaky breath, as I finally come to a stop in front of Angelina and Alicia and hover there, "I think I'm ready now."

"....Are you sure, Hermione?" Angelina said cautiously, "We heard you screaming-"

"JUST THROW THE WAFFLE!" I shriek, already scanning the index of the handbook for 'catching'. There was nothing.

I'll have to rely purely on skill.

And it's coming, soaring towards me, a huge red blot that grows larger and larger as I helplessly throw my arms out in front of me-

And catch it.

A huge cheer erupts from the stands- people are either laughing or shouting in sheer disbelief, or are actually cheering _for _me!

Euphoria sweeps through me like a wave of butterscotch sauce. I take one hand from the Waffle and wave grandly, grinning from ear to ear to my fans, the people who adore me! I have redeemed myself from embarrassing myself earlier that day in Charms with my incorrect answer! I am once again a pinnacle of success, and inspiration to all who-

"Hermione? Now you have to try and _score_." Alicia points out, rather impatiently.

"Oh- right, of course, just let me-"

"Without your little book." She interrupts, "_Accio Handbook_!"

I whimper as it is whipped out of my hands.

"We need to know that your skill is natural talent, not help from the library." She says, and a little nastily too!

"Fine!" I snap, and I raise the red ball high over my head and take aim.

The crowds are silent in anticipation.

"Um...It's a little far..I'll just..." I place a hand around the broom and attempt to jerk it forward so I can get closer to the goal. Nothing. If I had the _handbook_...I shoot a cold glare at Alicia as I attempt the jerk the broom forwards once more.

"Oh- GIDDY-UP!!!" I roar, and instantly, the broom starts bucking and swaying. With another shriek, I wrap my legs around it and toss the Waffle out of my hands so I can wrap my arms around it too. I must now have the appearance of a sloth on a bucking broncko.

"MAKE-IT-STOOOOP!!!" I howl as I'm jerked back and forth by the disobedient broom. There is no torture like this! I would give anything for it to just be over- to feel once more the soothing calm of the library, to see Ron's face slacken in stupidity every time I say something clever!

IF I'M SO CLEVER, HOW DID I EVER GET MYSELF INTO A SITUATION LIKE THIS?!?!

Sobbing, I bravely relinquish one hand from the broom and reach down my robes with great difficulty, and pull out the timeturner. With all the effort I could summon, I flip it over one handed, and pray that it's enough to get me out of here!

Finally, the scene dissolves and I let go of the broom, flying through the air until I disappear as well.

*

I find myself in the Boy's Dormitory- is this when I have been rescuing Scabbers? But it's dark- oh, then this must be the time when I watch Ron sleep. Well that's certainly interesting- I have travelled _forward _in time instead of backwards for a change! I had probably turned the Timeturner the wrong way in the confusion of being tossed around like a ragdoll tied to a stick. How interesting!

Well this certainly makes a nice relaxing change from those few humiliating moments of chaos...I find Ron's bed and settle into a sitting position.

His soft snores are like lilting lullabies, each individual snort sending shivers through me. His eyes flickered as his dreams- of _me?_- rolled through his stream of consciousness. His sweet morning breath lingered in the air.

I sit here a little while longer, rocking slightly and never taking my eyes from his slack face, before I get up to leave, but not before I have a little rootle underneath his bed for another keepsake.

I find a pair of stripy boxers- perfect!

As I shut the door behind me, I bring the pants to my face and inhale, delighted at my discovery. I exhale with a smile and open my eyes.

There's a man on the stairs. He's frozen mid stride, perfectly still as he watches me for a reaction. He's rather dishy actually, except his hair isn't golden red its black, and is shaggy, falling into his deep brown eyes. He is unshaven, and the smell radiating from him is not pleasant.

He has just seen me emerge from the boy's dormitorys, smelling some pants.

"You didn't see anything." I hiss threateningly. He blinks.

"Neither did you." He replies resolutely. I regard him through narrowed eyes for a second before shrugging and shaking hands with him.

"What's that?" I say sparply, pointing at something silver and pointy in his hand- he immediately stows it behind his back, taking on an innocent air.

"Nothing." He replied, eyes wide. He points, "Whose are _those_?"

"No ones!" I retort hotly, stuffing them in my pocket also.

There's a silence as we regard one another.

"We have an agreement?" He asks. I nod.

"Do you work here?" I risk asking a question. He smirks.

"Yeah- I'm the rodent exterminator." He seems to find this very funny indeed. I shrug.

"Well...goodnight..." And I hurry off to my own dormitory.

It's good they haven't got House Elfs doing everything these days...

*

**So. Who was THAT?! You can guess. **

**Hermione is not as clever as she likes to think she is. **

**Running short on REVIEWWWS .**

**and that was more than a hint XD**


	7. Trouble Ahead

**Trouble Ahead**

"Hermione, what the hell _happened _to you last night?!" The whole of the Gryffindor table seemed eager for an answer as I took a seat at breakfast. Harry had asked the question, but I hardly heard him, as I was scanning my surroundings desperately for Ron. Had he gone looking for his lost undergarments? It's not like he'd find them- unless he checked which ones _I _was wearing…

"I took an early night." I replied archly, "And some of you would do good to follow my example! Exams are less than nine months away!"

Everyone rolled their eyes at this- this was obviously not the answer they were hoping for.

"You disappeared into thin air at the Quidditch Tryouts," Ginny pointed out.  
Ah. The Quidditch Tryouts. The blood in my veins turned to ice. I hadn't thought about the humiliating events of yesterday since waking, and it felt like I had returned to a nightmare. Yes…deciding to time travel whilst attracting quite a lot of attention....not the smartest move, there, Hermione...

A cover story would be useful at this point. Or perhaps a simple diversion. I decided to use a line that never failed to avert attention from myself.

"Well," I huffed condescendingly, "Have you ever bothered reading Hogwarts: A History? It clearly states that one cannot apparate or disapparate within the school grounds."  
But they had already all switched off at the title 'Hogwarts: A History'. Perfect. Sometimes I scare myself!

"Well, it doesn't matter anyway," Harry said impatiently, "Haven't you heard about Ron?"

My heart flutters like a startled bird as I regard his grave expression. I hadn't even thought to scan my surroundings for my little gingerbread man.

"…Where's the body?" I choke.

Harry looked at me for a second as if I had just suggested forcing Buckbeak into a tutu, before shaking his head, "Uh, Hermione he's not _dead_."

"Although he could've been." Ginny contradicts, sounding very upset.

Why's _she _feeling sorry for herself? What about _me_?

"_What happened_!?" I demanded, a little shrilly, clutching my heart. People in the near vicinity edged away, taking their food with them and leaving Harry to deliver the frightful news alone. He looked as though he wished he'd never said anything.

"Well last night, Sirius Black found Neville's list of the Common Room passwords," Neville leapt out of his seat and headed for the door at a brisk pace, "And he came into our dorm, mistook Ron's bed for mine, and came at him with a knife-"

My stunning spell soared down the hall and hit Neville square in the back as he lunged for the door handle. With a strangled yelp he fell, and hit the ground in silence. A hush fell over the hall, as I lowered my wand hand and turned back to Harry as if nothing had happened.

"Was he hurt?"

Harry averted my eyes.

"_HARRY_!" I screeched, the window panes rattling from the howling winds pummelling the walls.

"Well he's lost his appetite." Harry replied gravely, "He hasn't even come down for breakfast yet."

Terror caused what was left of my composure to completely cave in. "Have you called for St. Mungos?! What's the protocol?! Isn't there some sort of _procedure for this_?! PROFESSOR DUMBLEDORE I HAVE TO SEE YO-"

"Hermione, sit." Ginny interrupted, pulling me by my sleeve so I would sit down again. In my blinding flash of anguish I had not noticed leaping onto my stool and pointing violently at the headmaster, who was busying himself with his scrambled egg so as to give the impression he had not heard me. Well at least he's got _his _appetite, the selfish bastard!

"Sirius Black." I spat through my clenched teeth, "Did they _catch _him? What imbecile painting doesn't recognise a most-wanted mass murderer?!"

"He legged it as soon as he realised he had the wrong person." Harry replied, looking slightly pale. He can be such a drama queen sometimes.

"You mean he still walks the corridors of Hogwarts?!" I demand, clutching my chest, "Thirsting for the blood of _my_- uh, _our_ Ronald?!"

"No, he's still after Harry," said Parvati. Her and her exasperating friend Lavender had decided to join the conversation upon realising I wasn't quite carnivorous yet, "What would he want with Ron?"

What _wouldn't_ he want? Ron was the very pinnacle of…well he looks good in maroon. I decided to ignore Parvati and her criminal underestimation of my redheaded love.

"So many bad things have been happening lately..." Ginny said, still holding the facial expression of a violated puppy as she sniffled slightly, "Sirius Black at Hogwarts, Katie's still missing..."

Whoops.

Now don't you think for a _minute _I was just going to leave her as a rabbit forever. What with the Quidditch Tryouts and Ron's surprisingly comfortable underwear, surely you understand that I became distracted!

"Excuse me." I said sweetly, rising swiftly from my chair and setting off down the hall at a brisk pace, which turned into a trot, which turned into a run.

Now where did I leave that little rabbit...

However, my pace slackened considerably as suddenly the doors opened, and _he _stepped through. Flanked...by two harlots. No doubt he was telling his story of the Attack of Black, as their eyelids were batting furiously and he looked positively _gleeful_. Trust _Ron_ to see the bumbling mistake of the most calculating criminal in Britain as a thrilling conquest on_ his_ part.

"Are those _first years_?" I spat, outraged, as they took a seat further down the table, "They don't even know what a _swelling _solution is yet! I'd like to see _them _make a polyjuice pot-" But then I realised that I wasn't even talking to anyone. Summoning a huge amount of effort, I tore my eyes away from Ron, jumped over Neville's unconscious form and threw myself through the doors.

*

I found Katie the Rabbit under my bed, right where I'd left her. She hadn't ventured out from underneath- the leash I had secured around her neck had worked wonders! I cooed at her as I drew her out from under the bed by her hind leg. Even if she was really human, I had always had a rather unique touch with animals.

"Now, now, Katie," I said coaxingly, as she scrabbled against the wood desperately, leaving ugly grooves in the floorboards, "I have a carrot for you!"

It was a fib, but animal instincts seemed to overcome her- her ears twitched in interest and her nose wriggled in delight. I scooped her up into my arms, and at this point she seemed to realise that there was no carrot in my waiting arms. Once again she used her little claws to gain control. I shrieked as she raked through my skin and threw her in the air...by accident!

"Wretched creature!!!" I shrieked, as she hit the floor bounding, heading for the door. Before I could stop her- I was hardly going to stun a cute little bunny- she slipped through and disappeared down the steps.

"Oh...no I didn't mean it!" I cooed as lovingly as possible, setting off after her. As I charged down the steps, I noticed that the Common Room was no longer empty, as it had been as I had entered it. A group of people were gathered around the noticeboard. I had heard Oliver Wood notifying some at the table this morning that the results of the Quidditch Tryouts yesterday would be up after breakfast. What a perfect little plot device for this HORROR story!!

The crowd of interested Quidditch Fans and hopefuls were completely unaware of the little rabbit bounding towards them, obviously overcome with relief that she had found fellow Gryffindors to come to her aid. But I never let her reach them- I launched myself down the stairs after her, still running as I grabbed her from the floor and stuffed her down my robes. Needless to say, she fought valiantly, giving the illusion that I had rather an active bosom.

"Hey...Hermione." Ron was amongst the crowd, and was now looking in awe at my chest. Mortified, I flung my arms over myself, wrestling with it, before squeaking: "I have a stomach ache!"

"I don't think it's your stomach-"

"PERVERT!!!" I howled, now inconsolable with humiliation. I leapt through the portrait hole and ripped the rabbit from my robes, holding her by its back legs so she hung upside down before me, stunned into immobility and looking positively bewildered as she swayed slightly to and fro. Obviously she hadn't enjoyed her little escapade down the front of my clothes.

I needed to obliviate her memory before I could restore her to her original form, but would it have a different effect on a bunny rabbit? I mean, of course I _know_ that. But...in such stressful times...oh dear lord I'm losing myself! I've cursed a fellow housemate who has never shown me any dislike, in order to steal her position to play chase on the _Quidditch _team, when I've no natural talent in it at all, as I clearly demonstrated in front of my peers who had once thought that I was faultless, before disappearing into thin air in front of the said witnesses and stealing a pair of Ron's boxers!

And now I'm slumped against a wall around the corner from the portrait hole, holding a rabbit upside down wondering if I should wipe its memory or give it a cuddle.

"Hermione?"

"IT'S A PET!" I shrieked, lobbing Katie away from myself once more. Startled, she set off down the corridor, little white tail bobbing up and down as she skidded around the corner and out of sight.

That's surely going to come back and bite me in the backside. But I watched her go helplessly, before turning to see who called my name. It was Professor Lupin, looking rather shabby as usual, completely unprofessional for a _teacher_ as he walked towards me.

"Good morning Professor!" I trilled, trying valiantly to remain hinged. He smiled slightly.

"Is that your rabbit?" He asked, pointing after Katie.

"....I have that essay for you!" I smiled widely, and I swear I saw him flinch, "But we don't have a Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson today, so when can I give it to you?"

"Perhaps...on a day when we do in fact have a lesson?" He suggested, looking rather confused.

"That sounds logical." I nodded solemnly.

"Yes...but that rabbi-?"

"Oh,but now I think about it... I really think I should give it to you a little early." I interrupted, beads of sweat forming between my shoulder blades, "It's rather long, so it might take you longer and I wouldn't want to hold you back in giving everyone their marks!"

"Well, I'm sure I'll be able to-"

"Great, I'll drop it off at your office after dinner!" I chirruped, already setting off after the wretched rabbit.

"No, wait, Hermione, that really won't be ne-"

"See you at eight!" I called over my shoulder, stumbling as I take the corner too fast. I think Professor Lupin tried calling after me again, but I was already on the chase, even as the bell rang for the first lesson of the day.

However, soon enough the corridors were too jampacked with students to find a little white bunny. For a moment I hoped that the rabbit would be crushed underfoot in the stampede between lessons, which would certainly make it easier to find once the corridors cleared, but then realised I actually had to stop and remind myself that this was an actual human being.

Although since she was currently a rabbit she would be a lot easier to dispose of quickly and efficie-

HERMIONE! STOP IT!

I decided, after getting a hold of myself, that maybe I should pursue the problem of the escaped rabbit that could out my terrible crime later, and should attend Divination, instead of having to go all the way back in time one more time than necessary so that I wouldn't miss it.

After all, Divination was one of my most favoured subjects…!

*

"Miss Granger…I was expecting you." Came a weak and trembling voice, one that I had grown to loathe.

"I'm on your register aren't I?" I snapped, as I scrambled through the trapdoor. Professor Trelawney, the one teacher that I really have difficulty showing good manners to, was slumped like a pathetic rag doll in her smelly old throne. Her spindly fingers were stuck to her temples as her bug like eyes rolled. I waited for the prediction as I marched over to my 'chair', a little _pouffe_, a disgustingly inappropriate piece of furniture for a learning environment, and tried to sit down in it elegantly, but at the same time, show my irritation.

I missed and fell.

"Ah, Miss Granger, forgive me for not warning you about that," Professor Trelawney said dreamily as my fellow classmates failed to hide their laughter, "But I really do feel strongly about letting the events of time take its course."

Oh, but she was just FINE with saving her precious pink cups from Neville's clumsy grasp! I made a furious mental note to drop one later.

"And you too should steer clear from my pink cups toda-"

"I WASN'T GOING TO TOUCH YOUR FOUL CUPS-!" I began to scream, but she continued to talk over me.

"Observe," She addressed the class, and putting her gnarled fingers, laden with tacky rings, in her ears, she pulled out two cotton buds, "I knew I would need these today- I knew this because of the vibrations calling me from the future, they were the vibrations of Miss Granger's rather distinctive warble."

"There is _nothing_," I cried, ripping my divination book out of my bag and jabbing it violently with my finger so hard I heard a crack, "In this book that talks of 'vibrations calling' for a little chat!"

"The mysterious workings of fortune telling cannot be condensed into a school textbook." She replied defensively, her dreamy manner slipping slightly.

"Textbooks," I seethed, "Are the only things keeping me coming to this excuse for a class."

"I thought you might say that." She replied, sickeningly smug as Lavender and Parvati clutched each other with delight at her fraud.

"Well I thought you might say _that_." I countered, my grip tightening on my textbook. Harry and Ron, who were beginning to get used to my temper, were edging themselves further and further away from where I was sitting. Another Trelawney vs Granger fight was clearly about to ensue.

Professor Trelawney gave a slippery giggle. It sounded alien coming from her buglike head.

"My dear, if you could even cope to swish your tea leaves, I would question my predictions of your poor school work in the years to come."

An eerie hush settled over the classroom like dust on a corpse. Never before had any of my peers heard such an inflammatory description being used for my school work. The word poor to me was pathetic, weak, _filthy_.

I'd seen the word written a thousand times, but only on Ron's essays, even after I tried to correct them for him. Although Ron was my darling, my intelligence was not comprisable to his.

"Take that back." I hissed, through teeth clenched so hard I could feel my molars flexing. Professor Trelawney blinked behind her huge lenses, and Lavender and Parvati looked disapproving. Those crystal ball loving suck-ups could stick their noses back in that washed out old prune's backside!!!

"I would, Miss Granger," The wrinkled old witch sighed dramatically, "Perhaps if you gave to me just _one _little prediction."

I refuse to admit that I lack skill in one subject. I am an all rounder, and _proud _of it! It is just that I am adjusting to this new topic area, a more obscure branch of magic! It takes more than a term to develop confidence and sure footedness in such an iffy area of the curriculum.

I refuse to be bad at this.

I refuse!

The thing is…what if I am? And to regain the respect of my peers...I would have to understand the complex and unpredictable workings of...time...

_Click._

Oh ho, oh Hermione, GENIUS!!! The PERFECT plan, why did you never think of this BEFORE?! All of those endured Divination lessons, hiding you're imperfect grades from Ron when getting a terrible essay handed back with that smug 4/10 printed boldly upon the top, weeping over fortune telling textbooks and extra studying just to keep up.

"I accept your challenge, Professor." I drew myself up to my full heigh on my pouffe, and putting a trembling hand to my chest. She blinked, not sure if I was serious or not. But as soon as the bell rang, I was the first down the trap door, behind a tapestry before the others had even risen out of their seats, the time turner warm and spinning in my palms.

*


	8. Somethings a Glass Ball cant tell you

**There are some things Glass Balls just can't tell you**

I sprinted down a corridor, heart thundering and hair frizzing. I had already set time an hour backwards, and the other me was already heading off to Divination, although I would return later to do the lesson over once more to prove Trelawney _wrong!_

A prediction was _all _I needed to put that coot in her place. She could go back to her _cave_ and continue to inhale the toxic gases that cause her to misconstrue her hallucinations as viable insights into the future and STAY there!

I took a deep breath and wobbled. Saying all of that aloud had left me light headed.

Now…a prediction. Where did all the _interesting _things happen? I started munching on a bag of grapes I always carried around with me- powerful brain food! This year, the dementors that got Harry in a tizzy were on the _train_…but I didn't have a train. Oh and Sirius Black attacked Darling Ron…in his dormitory. Although drawing people's attention to the fact that occasionally I spent time underneath Ron's bed would not be wise. I continued to waltz around the school, thinking so hard my head hurt, although this was normal.

Come on, Hermione, its simple! Perhaps if _you _caused something momentous, noted down the main events and recited them in the lesson, which would lead the class to go and see for themselves if it happened, which of course it would, then all you'd have to do is leave your past self to do all the work whilst you sit back and look prophetic!

The most straightforward plans are the best ones!

Now…what to cause and then predict…preferably something that will humiliate the old coot.

_Click._

Her TEA! She always has a dinky little cup of what looks like herbal rat piddle brought to her by a house elf in the middle of every lesson. That had to be brought up by the kitchens! Now, if I were to go and pretend that Professor Trelawney had a new request...something that would not be as beneficial as herbs...

The first prediction was being put in motion!

As I sped off down the corridor I decided to write down the time at which I was doing this, so when my class came down to see another prediction, they wouldn't run into my supposed twin! In fact, perhaps it would be better to disguise myself. I slowed, consulted my reflection in an ancient grandfather clock, and altered my appearance. Now, I had a black bob and heavy eyebrows. I was unrecognisable! At first I toyed with ginger hair, and marvelled at the sight of what Ronald and my children would look like, but it was too noticeable. I had to be subtle.

I reached the portrait that led to the kitchens and knocked on it heavily. A house elf appeared meekly from behind it.

"Yes, Miss?" It squeaked.

"Hello!" I said breathlessly, "I'm here with regards to Professor Coot- I mean Trelawney's hourly cup of tea. She'd like to change it, today, if that's possible."

"Well…certainly!" The little elf replied, "What would she like?"

"Oh. Um…'scuse me a second!" I hastily pulled out my potions booked and flicked through for mild poisins that caused rashes, "Ah…yes she'd like ginger root, essence of blopfyn, and just a dash of ground beetle legs."

The elf looked perplexed as to why anyone would want this combination in a cup of tea, but agreed.

"Oh and she probably won't be in her classroom for the whole of the lesson today, so you'll have to find her. Good luck!" I beamed and went off to find some other disaster to cause.

Ten minutes later, and slightly crestfallen, I was loitering aimlessly around the corridors of Hogwarts, a place that usually thrived with lunacy and exciting drama. Suddenly, Peeves zoomed past. Peeves! Approximately 50% of the chaos around here always leads back to the little bugger!

Momentarily I paused to remove my disguise: perhaps he would be more inclined to be polite to the real me, as I had a good reputation. Even the hell raisers respected those who excelled in their studies!!

"Oh Peeves!!!" I trill, skipping over to him. He looked over from tearing up what looked like a pristine essay, and gave me a baffled look. He seemed confused as to why a student was actually _approaching _him, instead of running in the opposite direction simply at the sight of him.

"…Yes?" No limerick, no rude joke, nothing! I had succeeded in stringing out a half decent response! Perhaps I should go into Poltergeist counselling…I may well be a natural.

"Oh!" I blustered, realising I had been daydreaming about a possible career in Etiquette. If I kept the little hell raiser waiting who knows what dastardly deeds he'd execute! Although, I hadn't really planned anything to ask him…did I demand that he cause chaos? Someone like Peeves would definitely refuse to do anything just because someone asked him. I needed to buy some time!

"Grape?" I pushed the packet under his nose so he had no choice but to accept one. Raising a suspicious eyebrow, he sniffed one before plopping it in his mouth. He went to say something, most likely something very offensive, but he suddenly seized up…made a strange noise…turned purple.

"Oh!" I said, hopping up and down, "Oh, you're choking!"

He started to make strange warbling noises, shuddering in a rather unattractive fashion.

"This is _PERFECT_!" I exclaimed delightfully, "Don't move!!!"

And I sped off around the corner, redoing my disguise as I went. In the time it would take me to fetch Madam Pomfrey, my _other _self would have time to show everyone that a certain prediction of a choking poltergeist was right!

After I had alerted Madam Pomfrey, I was once again loitering, with a rather big grin on my face. I was so happy that even Mrs Norris couldn't worry me. As she turned to find Filch to alert him of my aimless wanderings around the corridors, I simply pointed my wand at her and trilled: "Mobilichat!" And she zoomed off in the opposite direction, wailing as she went before flying out of the window. Whoops! Well cats do always land on their feet- as I said previously, _nothing _could bother me. I continued down the corridor with a lithe spring in my step.

Hermione you are BACK on track as the genius you are!

The details of Peeves' choking were secure- second courtyard, at 11.34, saved by Madam Pomfrey.

The details of Professor Trelawney's rash were slightly vaguer- sometime in the current lesson, a rather nasty rash. Heehee!!!

Now...just one more thing, something only a true seer could forsee, something unexpected and out of the blue…

"Buckbeak! Oi, don' CHEW on my shoe!"

The sounds of Hagrid battling with his hippogriffs were rather distracting. Surely someone who couldn't control his own facial hair shouldn't be put in charge of vicious animals that were…seemingly intent on…destruction…

I was out on the school grounds quicker than Ron's eating habits, making my way towards Hagrid, who was looking rather disgruntled as he went around strapping the hippogriffs' wings together to keep them from flying off.

"Hello Hagrid!"

He looked at me blankly. Oh yes, the disguise.

"Uuummm…Lor…enfa…zina….Baker?" I stammered, "Fourth Year?"

"Uh…oh yeah, I remember yeh, Lor-uuh…Miss Baker." He grunted, lying through his teeth as much as I was, "Shouldn' yeh be in a lesson?"

Oh sure, the moment he's a teacher he gets all responsible! Forget the Fugitive Dragon, or the gigantic Spider with a preference for eating MY RONALD!

"My teacher fell ill!" I said, wobbling slightly. Lying was new to me! "So I thought I'd come and see the hippogriffs, because they're so…lovely…" I said this as a particularly big one decided to release it's bowels in a huge pile, around a metre away from me in the paddock.

Hagrid chuckled, warming to me. All it took was a liking for horrific beasts!

"Well, I got my firs' book since I lef' school in the hut, and it's abou' hippogriffs believe it or not! I'll just go get it for yeh!" And he lumbered back to his little house, leaving me with the hippogriffs.

Now, I knew exactly what I wanted to do, but it took a few seconds to muster the courage.

"OH!" I shrieked, as dramatically as I could. "OH HAGRID! THEY'RE…THEY'RE GETTING AWAY!"

And I shot a spell at the big gate, blasting it off its hinges. Elated by their, although restricted from flying, they immediately set off in a stampede towards the castle, where they could probably smell lunch being prepared. Heavy hoofbeats and strange shrieking filled the air, the birds took flight from the trees, Mrs Norris- who still hadn't found her way back into the castle- scarpered instead into the forest. I cackled in glee, but stopped immediately as Hagrid tore towards me. He slowed as he watched them disappear into the castle, before setting off at a sprint after them. I followed- I needed to take down the details of the events, after all!

By the time I got to the Great Hall, all there was to see was the destruction the beasts had left behind, as well as a crowd of excited students, including a huddle of shrieking teenage girls on the stairs.

"Alicia got carried off!!" One shouted out, her eyes wide and her face pale.

Now _that_ was an event to note down. I scribbled it down with glee.

This was perfect. Three brilliant predictions, dramatic and believable! I stowed myself away in a cupboard amidst the chaos, and turned time back an hour.


End file.
